


End of the Line

by Squid_Ink



Series: Glue and Duct Tape [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Besides James and Torunn the kids are my OCs, Did James get his mind wiped?, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, HYDRA enacts their evil plans to do evil things and be generally evil, HYDRA is evil and wants to do evil things, Hydra does evil for evil's sake, Hydra's hobby is evil, Hydra's job is also evil, Izzy and Dino are moggies, Maddie is a Newfie/Lab mix, Mother-Son Relationship, Team as Family, Where in the world is Bucky Barnes, Where saved James, Who in the world is Bucky Barnes, Who saved James, Why in the world is Bucky Barnes, Why save James, also Steve is an A+ dad, cause I'm not sure if Tony will come again and have a larger roll, isn't it nice when your job and hobby are the same, its not that funny, of course Tony would install an AI into the house he bought Steve and Nat, okay, uh... not sure if Tony's parents will come up again, writing the pets was fun, you can tell I have dogs and cats, you choose your family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 06:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15658068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squid_Ink/pseuds/Squid_Ink
Summary: He had called her instead of the nurse. They had met in random cities throughout Europe while he hunted down his long lost childhood friend in hopes of saving him. That didn't happen, instead the soldier and the spy fell in love, got married and had a family.A family that their enemies would do anything to see be torn apart. A son their enemies would do anything to do to make into the ideal weapon to combat his parents. Steve and Natasha must race against the clock to find their son before HYDRA makes him into their ultimate weapon. They'll need all the help they can get to save James before its too late.





	1. Prologue

It was an impulse, grabbing him and kissing his cheek. He had accepted it, gracious with a tender smile on his lips. Natasha walked him as she backed up, breaking eye contact to turn around. "Hey," he called, causing her to turn around. "What if I don't call that nurse?" he asked. She arched a brow, surprised that Steve Rogers even brought that up. She figured he'd let her try and set him up on a date but ignore it. He had an old friend to save.

"Who'd you call instead?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. He smirked, and she couldn't help but feel it wiggle beneath her skin. "Kristen from accounting?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Coffee?" he asked. She looked around. Nobody else was in the graveyard, it was humid, sunny, the birds twittering in the trees. She had to leave, had to establish new covers because she dumped all of her old ones onto the internet. It was the only way to expose Hydra, the only way to save people, to maybe erase some of the red in her ledger. The only way, so surely Steve would have read her file. Find out that she wasn't a good person, not like him. His shoulders slumped, figuring his impromptu effort to throw himself awkwardly into the dating pool (by asking her out no less) had floundered. "It's… it's okay, I— you need to get going, good luck Nat," he said.

Only close friends call me Nat. She frowned, staring at the manila folder in his hands. She almost wanted to go with him. She took a step towards him. "Hey, man, women like her don't date goodey-two-shoes like you, better off with that nurse, what's her name?" she heard Sam say.

"Sharon," Steve replied. Her throat tightened as she watched Steve and Sam walk off. Women like her don't date men like him. Women like her… she bowed her head, clenching her fists as she walked off, trying to ignore the hurt she felt. She and Steve had made a great team. They worked like a well-oiled machine. Don't date men like him…

"Get a grip Nat," she murmured as she got into her car and drove off, weaving in and out of traffic, some Russian death metal blaring from her speakers. She remembered when Steve made a face about her taste in music, asking with a bit of disgust at what the hell she was listening to. She had flipped the station to one that played music from the 40s and asked if this was more to his liking, which he replied by changing it to a local station. The fact that she heard sultry blues crooning out of her speakers a minute later, snapped her out of her musings. "Maybe I should call him?" she whispered as she took the exit to the airport. "Paris has nice coffee." She made the turn, following traffic. She liked Paris and wondered if Steve had ever been to the City of Lights.

* * *

 

Turned out he hadn't. It also turned out that his and Sam's little quest to hunt down Bucky had taken them to Europe and their first stop was Paris. The café was idyllic, the metal chair digging into her back as the pigeons cooed just at the edge of the outdoor patio. Cars honked at the people walking in the streets, some drivers even yelling at them, but they didn't seem to mind. A pretty blonde waitress handed her a menu, she smiled and said thank you, watching for him as she pretended to look over it. He came towards her, jeans and a faded t-shirt, a Dodgers cap on his head and aviators over his eyes. She lowered the menu as the chair scrapped against the pavement. "This seat taken?" he asked.

"It is now" — she leaned forward — "Bonjour monsieur, comment ça va?"

"Je vais bien," he replied. "Merci, uh… parlez-vous—"

"Please, Rogers," she said, flicking her hand dismissively, lifting up her gaudy big sunglasses, "we're not here to speak French."

"Oh good, it's been a while," he chuckled, that boyish half smile appearing. The one she was realizing he gave only when he was comfortable and at ease with the person. The one she realized she was slowly falling in love with. "Haven't spoken French since the war."

"Been a long while then." She reached out for his hands, fingertips brushing, but pulled away before he could take hold. "How's it going?"

"Like trying to grab air." He leaned back, hands slipping into his pockets. "One dead end after another."

"Toldja it was a dead end," she said. "Coffee's good here." A pigeon cooed only to take flight as a child ran towards it screeching. She watched Steve, memorizing the strong line of his jaw, how he tapped his foot in a nervous restless manner. He was watching the crowd like she was, though he was too obvious about it. "Hey," she said and this time she took his hand, drawing his attention to her. "Don't watch,  _watch_."

"That makes no sense," he said. She felt a smile tug at her lips. Another car honked, some man was yelling angrily at something, she heard doors open and close, people rushing pass as the chatted on their phones, the warmth of his hand in hers, the steady flicker of his pulse.

"Sure, it does, you just have to keep one eye open, look around without making it obvious. Look underneath the underneath," she said. She reached over to lift his aviators, pleased when he didn't flinch of grab her hand. She put the glasses on the bill of his ballcap. "There's a woman behind you—" he turned to look but she stopped him, with a hand on his jaw — "no don't look. She's behind you, typing on her phone, annoyed with her mother. To your nine o'clock is a mother scolding her son for running after the birds, and to your three o'clock there's a couple having their first serious fight and they'll probably break up tonight."

"How do you… see all this?"

She ran her thumb along his jaw before leaning back and smiling at him. "I  _watched_ ," she said and picked up the menu again. "Crêpes here are lovely."

* * *

 

Her breath came out in little puffs of white. She'd never forget the cold of a Russian winter. It was a cold that seeped into the marrow and froze it. The Finns were mad going out with a light jacket during the winter. It was not uncommon for a Russian to have two jackets and a heavy down coat on during the middle of winter. She stomped her feet to get blood circulating to her toes. She was standing on the Triotsky Bridge, the Neva River flowing grey and sluggish with hunks of ice drifting along. Cars rumbled and sigh behind her, the smell of exhaust thick in the air and it battled with the crisp watery scent of winter. She could see the old palace from this point on the bridge; the bridge's lights glittering, adding a touch of color to the otherwise grim colored night. "How do you stand this?" Steve asked as he joined her.

"I'm Russian," she said, a smile tugging on her lips. This was their fourth? Fifth? Sixth, date-not-date since Paris, she had lost count. They would meet up in various cities, she setting them up to make it look like chance encounters just in case anyone was still hunting them. Of course, they were still being hunt, but she'd like to think they had fewer enemies now. Steve had more layers on than most Russians. She couldn't blame him, after being frozen for seventy years he had an aversion to the cold. "Glad you could make it."

"Russia, why Russia?" he blew on his hands, even though he wore thick gloves. "It's freezing!"

"It's Russia," she said, deadpanned. "It's always cold here."

"Why couldn't he have been taken somewhere warm? Like Egypt. Never been to Egypt." He tucked his hands.

"Too much sand," she said, wrinkling her nose. "Besides, I like the view better here." She looked at him, taking his hand. "Do you need me to warm you up?"

"Sam knows."

"Of course he does, you're a terrible liar." She gave his fingers a squeezed. "So how long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you been nursing that little crush on me."

"What I have now is hardly a crush," he scoffed as she wormed her way against his side. She could feel him shiver. She wondered if he was overthinking the cold and was reacting to his mind overhyping it. "I love you," he said.

"It was the escalator kiss wasn't it?" she smirked. "Knew it."

"I said uncomfortable wasn't exactly what I'd call it," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "How long have we been doing this?"

"Almost a year and a half, you haven't been successful in grasping air," she leaned against him. Almost a year and a half of her following him and Sam, while working on her new covers. "I found my parents last week."

"Oh? What did they have to say?"

"Oh, you know, it was a riveting conversation about how worms liked to eat the jelly between their toes and the permafrost always got into their teeth." She laughed when he looked at her flummoxed. "My parents are dead," she said, sobering in a heartbeat. "I found their graves by a chain link fence. Pulled some weeds, placed some flowers, thought about saying something but didn't."

"I'm sorry darling," he whispered, nuzzling her knitted cap. "I didn't know."

"Don't worry about it, Steve," she said, "I have new family now." She looked at him and pulled him into a kiss, the cheer went up as the new year was rung in with fireworks and much consumption of vodka.

* * *

 

Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine she'd be here, dressed in white with lilies in her hair, a diamond tiara to hold her wedding veil in place. She couldn't stop smiling and feared if she did she'd cry and her mascara would run. She never been inside a Catholic church and she was sorry she never ventured into one just to look at it. The flying buttresses were worth it, even if Tony made lewd jokes about the term. Everyone she could call a friend was present: Tony and Pepper, Bruce, Thor and Jane, Sam, Clint and Laura with their kids, Nick Fury and Maria Hill. 

But what held her attention wasn't the church's architecture or the people in the pews, it was the man before her. Steve had never looked so handsome, standing before her in dress blues (graciously given to him by the Army for this special occasion), his blond hair neatly combed to the side and his eyes a bright vivid blue. His hand was shaking so badly he almost dropped the wedding band, his ears turning pink in embarrassment. When he pressed the band up against the engagement ring she wore, it was like a missing piece had finally snapped into place. The priest read the vows again as she slipped the tungsten wedding band onto Steve's finger, the small inlaid diamonds glittering in the light. "I do," she said and had never meant anything more in her life. She had promised Steve he'll never be alone after Peggy died, and now she was fulfilling that promise.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest said, "you may kiss the bride."

Steve's lips on hers had never felt sweeter.

* * *

 

The car eased to a stop at the red light, and she turned a page in the baby name book. "What about Kevin?"

"Knew a Kevin, used to beat me up after school."

"Nope," she said and drew a line through that name. "What about Roger?"

"Roger Rogers?" Steve looked at her, quirking a brow up at her. "Nat, do you hear yourself?"

"I guess that one's a dud too, huh, little guy?" she smirked, putting her hand on her swollen belly. She was six months pregnant, a miracle child in all honesty. When they had been dating, she had told Steve she couldn't have children. He was okay with it. Then they got married. Then Sam got married and had his daughter, Amber. And that was when she caught baby fever; Steve had brought up the subject of having children again.  _So_ , they had asked the three greatest minds known to man to figure out a way for a sterilized super spy and the world's first super solider to have a child. Shuri, Helen Cho and Bruce Banner had come up with a solution and she had agreed to the surgery to fix her ovaries, crevix and uterus.

And they tried. They tried for almost three years for a child. Specialized fertility treatments, invitro fertilization, artificial insemination, even the old fashion missionary position was tried (on multiple attempts). She would get pregnant and then miscarry or not get pregnant at all. Helen had warned her that the damage could be irreparable, even if the parts were fixed, and that was before factoring in how her and Steve's respective serums had affected their DNA and their sex cells. But Steve wanted this,  _she_  wanted this. She had all but given up; Steve was looking into the paperwork needed to adopt, when she told him she was pregnant. It had been an even bigger joy when she made it to the second trimester. While there was always a risk of miscarriage, Helen and Bruce seemed confident that she would carry to term.

Which meant constant monitoring of her and the baby, and Steve's doting on her. She didn't mind. Sure, it got annoying at times, but to see his face light up when he felt their baby kick made it worth it. "What about Zack? Zack's a good name," she said, the car moving along the late afternoon traffic of New York.

"I don't like any of those names," Steve said, as he turned onto the exit to get to their apartment in Brooklyn (they had yet to move into the house Tony bought them as a wedding gift). "I still don't see why you won't consider James."

"Steve, we've been through this, he's not the man you remember," she said, "you didn't even manage to find him."

"I had a persistent distraction," he grumbled.

"You and I both know our little romantic rendezvouses had nothing to do with your inability to find him." She put her hand on her belly. "He tried to kill me — twice. He nearly killed you. He put three slugs in you and left you to drown in the Potomac!"

"He pulled me out," he countered.

"You weren't even conscious!"

"I know it was him, Nat. I know I got through to him!" Steve said, sparing her a pleading glance, as they pulled onto their street. "It was him. He saved me."

"You have no way of knowing that Steve."

"After my mom died he was all I have," he said, his voice small. "I want to name him James."

"Steve," she whined as the car rolled up onto their driveway. "He's not the Bucky Barnes you remember."

"Yes, he is. He's in there, somewhere. Buried beneath whatever shit—"

She gasped, covering her belly. "Language, Steve!"

"Hydra did to him. My friend is in there, somewhere and I'll find him and make him see that." He parked the car and looked at her. "I want to name my son after the man that stood by me through thick and thin, that promised me he's with me until the end of the line." He placed his large hand on her belly. "Please, let me honor his memory like that."

"If it was a girl, would you be insisting we name her Peggy?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No, I'd be insisting we name her, Sarah, after my mother."

She nodded, picking up the book of baby names. She flipped to the Js. "One condition," she said.

"What?"

"I get to pick the middle name."

"Done."

"James then," she said and circled the name.


	2. Once Upon a Nightmare

_Twenty-one years later_

The hamburgers sizzled in the cast iron pan, the noodles tumbled about among the bubbles of the boiling water that Natasha stirred on occasion, the asparagus steaming in the sauce pan. Dinner was almost ready; the house was quiet, there was a soft hum from James' bedroom upstairs. She frowned at that, not liking him blasting his music so loud. The two black cats peered at her from their perch on the couch, their black lab was up with James. "James!" she bellowed. " _James!_ " she called again, this time the music got louder, the dog came bounding downstairs. The music stopped, she heard feet thunder down and her son popped into view.

He was sixteen, taller than her but shorter than Steve by a head (Bruce said he'll have one more growth spurt before he's done), he was muscular but not in the same way his father was not yet (Bruce said that'll happen too, and he could speed it along if he hit the gym). He looked so much like Steve: from his hairline to jaw, the shape of his lips and nose, even his eyes were the same shade of vivid blue as Steve's. Even the subsurface things, like his eidetic memory and mental sharpness he got from his father. Hell, even his hair was mostly Steve's (it  _was_  strawberry blond, but it was more  _gold_  than red). It bothered her that she saw so much of her husband in her son. Yet, what he didn't get from her physically he got from her in personality. Yes, James was a good, quiet kid that helped people, did the right thing (most of the time, he wasn't  _as_  wholesome as his father). But he was astute and observant, could read people like an open book and seemed to know what they were thinking before they did. Unlike Steve who couldn't lie to save his life (actually she  _knew_  Steve could probably lie if it involved saving his life); James had a silver tongue, he had a beautiful face, a quiet demeanor, a soft easy voice and he looked like a wholesome homegrown American kid — plus being the son of Captain American didn't hurt either — together this allowed him to charm almost anyone, lie his way out of almost any situation (well, he couldn't or wouldn't lie to her or Clint, she wasn't sure if he tried lying to Steve). It bothered her some nights, lying in bed with Steve's soft snores beside her, that James picked up on so much of her ingrained espionage habits. Little quirks and tells that had beaten into her from her childhood in the Red Room, her life working for the KGB and Shield. Not that James had ever used his skills for ill, no, and a part of her thinks that most of this is just subconscious quirks of who he is, who she was, and how he grew up. She tried not to think about it too much though.

She watched his lips move, but her brain was elsewhere. Her son, who looked so much like his father, who'd inherit the mantel of  _Captain America_  when he was old enough (in other words when Steve decided he was ready to retire and James was ready for the burden) — was also the son of Black Widow, and even though she didn't teach him anything about being a spy, he had nonetheless picked it up and there was this shadow about him. If he had to, he'd be able to survive on the run, reacting to the situations the way she would, because like it or not she had inadvertently trained her son to be the perfect spy. It hit her like a semi-truck and stung like one of her stings — James Rogers was the perfect marriage of super soldier and super spy, and her boy could slip between one mask and another. He was the son of Captain America  _and_ Black Widow.

She hated to think what the Red Room or heaven forbid  _Hydra_  would do with her son. Her sweet boy that wanted to be like his father yet had all the skills to be just like his mother. "Mom. Mom. Mom.  _Mom_."

" _Da_?" she blinked, looking up, as she turned the hamburgers over. "James, what is it?"

"Dinner ready? Dad home?" he asked, and their dog put her front paws on the countertop. "Maddie down," he said and gave her a gentle push. She whined but dropped back down.

"No." She shook her head. "Set the table though, he'll be home shortly." At least she hoped. Steve had been busy of late, the Avengers running around saving people, stopping AIM and rogue Hydra cells, random terrorists that had gotten their hands on Chitauri weapons. Average everyday stuff for people in their line of work. Steve had taken more stateside missions since James was born, though he had done a few long overseas ones in-between. She had mostly retired after she got pregnant, though every now and then, Fury had called her to do something. She tried being at HQ, directing the team from afar and giving them information.

That had failed in a crucible of fire. That mission almost killed Steve and she realized that she was too emotionally invested to remain impartial and deliver intelligence while watching her husband and her son's father throw his shield (and his body) at people that had crazy weapons hellbent on killing him and their friends. As much as it galled her at first, as much as she  _loathed_  the idea of being deskbound, but she accepted it when Steve told her that James needed his mother (with the heavy implication that he didn't need his father as much). So, she became deskbound, going over reports and succumbing to the dreaded clerical work. The loathing of her new job was tempered by how much she loved being James' mother.

She was involved in the PTA, various school functions and other activities James wanted to do. She took to motherhood like a fish took to water, and she blossomed. Steve even said she was glowing, like she was when she was pregnant. It made her smile and feel a sense of fulfillment and pride that she was raising James to be a good man — a man with his father's morals and her skills — and that made everything about giving up the life she was trained for so much better. "Two or three?"

"I said he'll be home soon," she said, turning he fire off the noodles and heading to the sink to strain the noodles.

"Yeah, but with Dad soon means between now and tomorrow," James said, getting three plates anyway. "Why's he so busy anyway?" She heard James set the plates on the circular table they ate at. "Is he looking for the Winter Soldier again?" There was a note of excitement in James' voice that she couldn't deny. "Do you think he'll let me come with him and Sam?" God, she hoped Steve wasn't looking for Bucky again.

It had been twenty-one years since Shield was exposed as Hydra. Twenty-one years since Steve learned his childhood friend was twisted into a feared assassin, known only as the Winter Soldier. Twenty-one years since he and Sam had crisscrossed Europe and the Middle East looking for Bucky. It took some convincing that Bucky was gone — probably captured and killed by the remains of Hydra — and that Steve needed to stop. Even their honeymoon was more of a search for Bucky than an actual honeymoon. In fact it had taken her getting pregnant for Steve to finally throw in the towel and give up his search for his friend.

"he better not," she said. Of course, Steve  _never stopped_  looking for Bucky. He just got better at hiding it from her. James wasn't the only one picking up on how to be a spy from her; her husband had too. "And no, you won't. You have school and homework."

"Aw man." He pouted as he finished setting the table. "I never get to do anything fun."

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. Of course, James would think what they did (what she used to do) was  _fun_. Movies had been made off of their adventures (granted with major changes to protect their identity — Star-Spangled Banner Man and the White Mantis… Tony refused to let them live that down), comics and novels and cartoons. Hell, they even had a few anime made about them (her boobs weren't titanic jugs and she didn't beat anyone in a violent rage whenever they suggested she liked Steve and then turned around to be super sweet with him only to be cold with him in the same breath). "It's dangerous James," she said, putting the meal in serving dishes. "Put the salt and pepper on the table, and any sauces you want for your burger." She finished and glanced at her phone, no message from Steve. Her heart sank, looks like James was right. Steve wasn't coming.

The cats looked at the door and Maddie began a soft series of woofs. Izzy bolted first, followed by Dino. The sound of keys jingling in the door and the door open. "Dad!" James cried as Maddie bolted to the door with her booming barks echoing. Steve walked in, his shirt and jeans were clean but his face was grimy and so was his shield. "You made it!" James threw himself at his father.

"Hey buddy," he said, wrapping an arm around his son; her heart swelled at the sight, Steve putting a kiss on top of James' head. He let James go and patted the bouncing dog. "Hey, girl." He shuffled in, James closed the door and Maddie danced in circles, tail wagging so hard she feared the dog would fall over. "Just in time for dinner, I see."

"Mom was afraid you'd be late," James said as he finished setting the table. He patted Maddie, settling her down. "Weren't you, Mom?"

"You should know me better Jamie," she said, opening the oven door and pulling out the platter of hamburgers. She hated cooking for Steve and James. They ate twice as much as a normal person. She grunted as she pulled out the platter. "Steve go wash up, and don't leave that shield lying around with it being filthy."

"Yes, ma'am," he grumbled, but flashed her a smile and headed to their room upstairs to get cleaned up. James helped her arrange the food on the counter. Maddie eyed the burgers, big globs of drool hanging from her jowls. "James," she said. He sighed and picked up her dog dish, putting two scoops of dog food in and spooning out some hamburger fat over her kibble. He whistled.

"Mads," he said, she bounded over to him. "Sit" — she sat — "Paw" — he held out his hand and she gave him a pained look before giving him her paw — "good girl," he said as he shook her paw and set her food down. She stared at him for a long moment, a soft whine escaping her as her tail wagged. " _Da. Da._ " He nodded, she attacked her food. Natasha flinched at the sound. She heard he water running and a few minutes later Steve came down, smelling like Irish Spring body wash and Dove for Men shampoo and conditioner. Izzy and Dino following behind him, two black shadows with glowing all-knowing eyes.

"Better?" he asked, tugging at his shirt and giving her a smile. He picked up his plate from the table and went to the counter where the food is sitting in an assembling line fashion. She learned long ago that the best way to feed her boys with their insane metabolism was to line food up buffet style. Steve loaded his plate with burgers, mac'n'cheese and some asparagus. James followed, loading his plate in a similar fashion and she brings up the rear loading her plate with less. Still, dinner is pleasant. She tugs at Steve's collar.

"Much."

"What took you so long?" James asked, squirting barbeque sauce on his burgers. She glared at him, a look that told him to not ask questions. James was unphased though and gave an imploring look at his father. She fixed the same glare at Steve. He cleared his throat.

"I rather here about your day, son," he said, side-eyeing her. "If that's okay with you. You know how your mother doesn't like me talking about work."

"Mom doesn't like any talk about work," James grumbled. "You never did come to Parent's Day when I was a kid."

"You know why James," she said. James pouts, eating some burger with a dejected expression on his face.

"My dad has the coolest job in the world and I can't even brag about it," he said, Steve flushed with embarrassed pride that their son thinks so highly of him. "I have to tell everyone that my dad's an accountant!"

She flinched at James' tone, and because he doesn't hold her in the same high regard that he does his father. "James, Riley knows."

"Riley's dad's Falcon! Of course, he knows!" he huffed. Maddie padded over, putting her head on his lap. He petted his dog, unhappy. "I just want to be normal."

"Jamie," she sighed, rubbing her forehead, ignoring the concern look that Steve gives her. This had been a recent issue, ever since James really understood how different he was from his friends and classmates (well, Torunn was an exception). Bruce had explained that because her serum and Steve's had affected their DNA, James had inherited both and by some miracle they combined and formed what could only he could only describe as a new serum. In short, James got the best of Erskine's super soldier serum and the best of her Red Room super spy serum: stronger, faster, more flexible, more agile, more durable, resilient to various poisons and diseases.

Besides an increase metabolism, James grew up unaware that he was stronger and faster than the other kids. He broke toys, played rougher in mock wrestling. None of it bothered him at first, he just assumed all the kids he played with were like him. Then he got to school and in fifth grade he got into a scuffle with a bully, broke the kid's jaw — the boy's mother threatened to sue them for medical and psychological damages done to her son, Natasha never wanted to hurt another person out of hatred before but the woman made James horrified and scared of what he'd done. The woman had crushed her son's spirit. — she and Steve had sat James down that day and explained to him that he was different, that they were different. He never showed that it bothered him, but then again, she had her own faults as a parent.

"James," Steve said, his voice soft and he put a hand on their son's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. "Normal is a relative thing. What our normal is different than Riley's normal. Look at Howie and Audrey, to them everyone is rich and famous" — he gave their son a half-smile — "not everyone is. And that's okay."

"I just want people to know how proud of you I am, Dad," he whispered. Her heart breaks at that. One, because she loves her son so much and his good heart he got from his father, and two, because he would never say that about her. James has no reason to be proud of her. She made him a perfect spy without trying, but Steve made him a good man and that counted for far, far more.

"Aww, James," Steve said, getting up and hugging their son. "You're a good kid. I'm proud of you too. Now, finish eating so we can watch Sentinels of the Universe Two." Steve let go and sat back down.

She brightened at the name of the film, she forgot it was Friday and movie night. James frowned. "About that," he said, scrapping his fork on the ceramic surface of the plate with his fork. The sound grated on her ears and she gave him a glare. "I'm going out with my friends."

"But it's family movie night," Steve said, shoulders slumping. "You know that."

"I know Dad, but" — he swallowed, nervous. She frowned, wondering if her son had a date. That made her blood run cold. James wasn't old enough to date. Not, yet. No, her baby boy couldn't be growing up that fast. — "it's Justice Warriors: Creation War."

Steve frowned. "Justice Warriors?"

"Yeah, Justice Warriors, they are only the most badass—"

"Language James," she said.

"Heroes in the world. It ties in with the Sentinels of the Universe. Kalma, who is like this scary ass bitch—"

"James, I said language!" she snapped again.

"—is hunting for the Creations Gems because she's evil and the strongest person in the universe and the Justice Warriors team up with the Sentinels of the Universe."

"Pretty exciting," Steve said, nodding. She's pretty sure most of it has gone over his head, but James' enthusiasm for the series is infectious so he plays along.

"And it's  _the movie_  of the year and if I don't go Howie will never let me live it down, plus Torunn got to stay here longer to see it. It's also opening night and Howie got tickets in advance for us and you know how much Torunn's grandpa  _hates_  her staying with her mom here." James clasped his hands together. "Please, Dad, can I go?  _Please_."

Steve sighed, rubbing his jaw and glanced at her and then at their son; he bit his lip. "Ask your mother," he said and shoveled food into his mouth to avoid saying anything further.

"When do you have to be there?" she asked, knowing that the final decision rested with her. It always did. Steve would give James the moon and stars if he could, she took care of most of the discipline and making sure James did his chores and other things.

"Howie's gonna be here at seven-thirty and the movie starts at eight-fifteen. He said it's almost three hours."

Good God! How do these movie people expect anyone to sit in a theater for almost three hours watching a movie? She gets bored with a ninety-five minute film. "I want you home by midnight, understand? You tell Howie that and if he complains tell him I'll call his mother."

"One o'clock? It's Saturday tomorrow, so I have no school—"

"Midnight."

"Dad," James whined, looking at Steve with an imploring look. Steve gulps his water, coughing a little bit. He glanced between them and sighed, going back to his food.

"Steve." She glared at him, willing him with her mind to take her side and not give into James'. He was sixteen, yes, but he wasn't old enough to stay out until one in the morning,  _especially_  not with Howie Stark and the Lang twins. Those three were trouble makers if she ever saw any.

Steve choked, realizing he couldn't get out of this any longer. He straightened, glanced at her and then at James. "Midnight, like your mother said." He glanced at her. "And do whatever she asks before you leave, understand?"

"Yes, Dad," he said and finished his food. She watched him put away the left overs (she always had left overs, Steve always ate them) and then go about cleaning the cat boxes, taking Maddie for her walk, and then rushing into the shower so he'll be clean. He came down in a fresh pair of jeans and shirt, his jacket slung over his arm and running a hand through his wet strawberry blond hair. It was almost seven-thirty. "Do I look okay?"

She appraised him, Steve glanced over his shoulder with suds up to his elbows — they had the best dishwasher money could buy yet he still did the dishes by hand every night he was home, he said it was faster — and gave James a smile. "Looks good."

"Do you think Torunn will like it?" he asked, plucking at his shirt. Maddie padded over and nuzzled his leg, he patted her head.

"You look fine, Jamie," she said and gave him a hug. "You got your phone?" she asked, and he pulled it from his pocket. "Remember—"

"Call if I'm late, call if plans change, call if I'm in trouble," he said with a smile, "I know Mom. I'll be fine. It's just Howie, Torunn, Riley, Faith and Andy."

"Audrey's not going?" Steve asked.

"She's twelve and apparently her mom threw a fit about her coming along, so her dad is taking her tomorrow. I mean, Howie wanted to do the midnight showing yesterday but school night, so his mom said no." There was a car horn and Maddie began to bark, bouncing up and down in her excitement, Izzy and Dino pulled their ears back, displeased with the loud booming barks of their canine companion. James grinned. "That's Howie." He hugged her and then ran and hugged Steve. "Love ya, I'll be good!"

"Remember, midnight!" she said, watching as he headed to the door, Maddie padding after him, her tailing wagging in excitement.

"I know, Mom," he said and petted his dog. "No Mads, you stay here." She whined, glancing from the door to him, her ears perked forward. "I know but you stay here and protect Mom and Dad,  _da_?" he said and gave her another pat when she sat. "That's a good girl." He smiled at them again and slipped out the door. She wrapped her arms around herself and went to the window, watching as James got into the car. She thanked Tony that he sent Happy to drive the kids to the movies, though was a bit annoyed that it had to be a limo.

"He'll be fine Nat," Steve said from his post at the sink. "Don't worry too much."

"It feels like yesterday we were in the car picking out names," she said. "You carrying me home from the hospital with him tucked safe in my arms."

"I know," he said. She sighed, petting Maddie when the dog came over to her, nosing at her hand. Steve wrapped his damp arms around her and gave her a kiss on the nape. "I know, he's almost seventeen. Almost all grown up and won't be needing us anymore." He smiled. "But that's the thing, he'll always need us. Whether we know it, or he knows it or not. We're a family."

"Yeah. It's just… I'll miss him."

"We can always try for another kid," he said. "I mean it's not like we're old or anything."

"You know why we can't have another child," she said, even though she'd love to have another baby, to be pregnant again. Maybe this time they'll have a little girl that took after her in looks more than Steve.

"Surrogacy. I'm sure Pepper wouldn't mind," he said, "plus I've heard grandmas carrying their grandchildren, it's in the news and—"

"No. We talked about this trying to get pregnant the first time, so no." She leaned against him. "I don't want to think about it, Steve."

He nodded, patting her hip (who was she fooling, he was smacking her ass and she liked it). "Not saying we should have another kid, but" — a sultry look appeared in his eyes and the blue of his irises seemed to darken to navy — "we can do the fun part of baby making. James' isn't home."

"You're naughty." She giggled and gave him a kiss. "Finish the dishes Captain."

"Yes, ma'am," he said and gave her a wink and another kiss before letting her go. She chuckled, feeling content. A cat hissed and growled, Maddie barked, the sound of thundering paws echoed and the cat tree in the living room rocked back and forth. She looked and saw Maddie had chased the cats again.

"Maddie!" she snapped, going over to the large dog as she whined, staring at Izzy and Dino. The two cats growled, fluffing up, two angry shadows. Dino spat, bearing white teeth and pink tongue. "Maddie, no, bad girl," she said and yanked on her collar. Maddie whined, trying to look guilty but still wanting to play with the cats. "You do this every time James leaves, how many times do I have to tell you that the cats are friends?" she asked, leading the dog over to her kennel. She whined, twisting and barking. She hated her kennel, James never put her in it, then again, she was  _his_  dog. Maddie listened to them, but she  _obeyed_  James. "Bad dog," she said and put the dog in her kennel. Izzy and Dino — still fluffed — looked pleased with the turn of events, and the two cats touched noses, almost as if they were sharing a private gloating victory over Maddie. Maddie just whined, laying down, her big head resting on her big paws. Natasha sighed, rubbing her temples and went over to sooth her ruffled cats.

* * *

Steve was asleep, the house was quiet, Dino was on her chest purring and Izzy spooned her head and was purring too. Steve took Maddie out for her final walk of the day and didn't have the heart to put her back in her kennel, so the big dog was laying at the foot of their bed (she had wanted to flop on top of Steve, but she wouldn't let it happen, so the foot of the bed).

She glanced at her phone, Izzy squinted in the sudden light. The clock on her phone read  _two-thirty_. Dread had curled in her stomach. James hadn't called or texted or left a voice mail or even come home. Steve told her not to worry, that he'll call if something happened and went to sleep. She should listen to Steve, go to sleep. Tomorrow she'll find James passed out on the couch because he didn't want to wake them up by heading to his room. Yes, that was it. James was just asleep on the couch and nothing bad happened to her only son. Izzy flexed his paw, his nails grazing her temple. She'll have to clip his claws tomorrow, Dino's too. Steve shifted next to her. She looked at her phone again, only a minute had elapsed. "Nat, go to bed," she told herself and set her phone on her nightstand. She sighed, Dino stretched a paw out, pressing his paw-pads against her lips. His paw smelled like the dust of cat litter and she shifted her head, so his paw wasn't on her mouth. "Sleep." She told herself and closed her eyes.

It was only a minute when she heard the knock on the door. Well Maddie heard it first, her head coming up off her paws. She gave a soft woof, hackles starting to stand up. The soft woofing grew in volume and frequency until Natasha heard the knock. "Damn it," she grumbled as Dino and Izzy bolted, their sharp claws digging into her skin. Maddie bounded for the door, full out barking. She crawled out of bed as Steve woke up, rubbing his eyes.

"Nat?" he asked. "Is that James?"

"Something's wrong," she said, throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, she smacked the side of her nightstand, the hidden door popped open and she grabbed her gun. She heard Steve get outta bed, and a few moments later the strange  _vrum_  sound of his shield. They left the lights off as they headed downstairs. The porch light was on, Maddie was barking up a storm — tail stiff and hackles raised — that made her blood chill. Whomever this was, it wasn't James or anyone they knew. Maddie's barks had growls in between them, and not the playful puppy growls either, but vicious guard dog growls.

"What the hell is going on? Did James do something?" Steve asked in a hushed down as they headed to the door, he had slipped in front of her, raising his shield a bit. He grabbed Maddie by her collar and she reached over to answer the door. Maddie barked and snapped, not liking the situation or the sirens or the police officer at the door. She couldn't jump or lunge at the cop, Steve's strength and grip on her collar too much for her.

"Maddie," he growled, the dog settled down, sitting by his leg and growling at the cop. She disengaged her gun and moved closer to Steve.

"Sorry to disturb you," the officer said, his eyes flicking from Maddie to them. Her heart leapt into her throat. James had done something, he was probably sitting in that police cruiser under arrest.

"What did he do?" she blurted out. "What did my son do?"

"Uh… nothing, a-as far as I know," the officer said, shocked by her sudden outburst. "Are you Mr. and Mrs. Rogers?"

She and Steve shared a glance, surprised the officer didn't realize who he was talking too. Steve's shield is pretty iconic. "Yes," Steve said, he didn't lower his shield or let go of Maddie's collar. "What is this about?"

"Well, I—"

Her eyes widened as she saw — of all people — Iron Man land on the front lawn. The cop stared gob smacked at the sight. "Steve, Nat!" Tony said as the helmet's face plate flipped up. She was always amazed he could move so fluidly in that armour. "Has he called yet?"

"Is Howie alright?" Steve asked, worry staring to percolate through them. If Tony was here in his armour then something must've put Howie in danger and if Howie was in danger then so was James.

"Howie's fine, he's banged up, got a broken leg, cracked ribs. He'll live." Tony said, stepping inside. "Hey girl," he said to Maddie, the dog relaxed a bit.

"And the others?" Steve asked.

"James?" she asked, realizing that something awful and terrible had happened to her son and his friends. "Is James alright?"

"The others are fine. The Lang twins are a bit banged up, Torunn and Riley have a few cuts, nothing serious. By the looks of it they…" Tony stopped, hands on his hips, and for once he looked like he was lost for words. She was shaking, the gun in her hand felt clunky and heavy, the sirens were too loud, the flashing lights too bright, everything too much and so very wrong. She felt like she was drowning, her lungs refusing to take in air.

"Is James dead?" Steve asked, his face was an impassive mask. Tony puffed his cheeks out and turned to the still baffled cop.

"Here," he said, taking the man by the shoulders and steering him out the door. "Why don't you go drive down to the twenty-four hour shop and pick up some donuts. Make yourself useful, I got this. I'll take it from here."

"But you're… you're not a… you are—"

"Iron Man, I know. This is way outta your league," he said and gave the cop a little shove before coming back in and closing the door. He stood there, the red and gold of his Iron Man suit dull in the dark. "SARAH," he called. There was a chime, Maddie whined as she looked at the ceiling.

"Good evening Mr. Stark," said the feminine voice of the AI. Tony had bought them this house as a wedding gift, outfitted it with a customized AI program just for them (Steve had named it SARAH after his mother). "What seems to be the problem?"

"Do you use her?"

"Sometimes," Steve admitted, "mostly when James was a baby, and I think Nat does when I'm not home."

"You and your tendency to be Luddite," Tony huffed. "SARAH sync with JARVIS, turn on the lights and activate the security system and then turn the tv and anything else that makes ambient noise on."

"Tony what the hell is going on?" Steve asked. She didn't understand either, she had drifted to the table and sat down as Tony walked towards the living room, she frowned when he got to the carpet. The tv turned on as did James' stereo, and the lights turned on as well. "What's wrong? What happened to my son?"

"Everything has been set Mr. Stark, do you want me to switch over to JARVIS?" SARAH asked.

"Yeah, do that," he said, JARVIS greeted them a moment later. A blue light on the tv turned on and a holographic projection appeared. Steve had moved closer to her, looping his arm over her shoulders, he had set his shield on the countertop and she didn't gripe about the crime. Tony was moving the holographic images. A wrecked car, Happy on a stretcher battered and bloodied; Howie, the Lang twins, Riley, Torunn, injured but not badly hurt. The scene of the crime and James' high school photo. Something coiled in her gut, something horrible and venomous; she felt sick and she clung to Steve. She tried to find her center, tried to find her Black Widow mask, but it and any other mask she wore had shattered, replaced only by a worried mother realizing her little boy was in trouble. "They were coming home when someone attacked the limo, Happy will be fine, concussion. He's out of it. The kids fought whomever attacked them or at least tried to," Tony explained, "but whomever was attacked them was after James."

"What?" Steve's brow furrowed. "James? Why James? What does he—"

Her phone went off, playing some part from  _The Nutcracker_. It was loud and blaring and she ran up to her bedroom. Steve and Tony following her. She stared at the screen as her friend and husband joined her. She glanced at Tony. "It's an unknown number, should I answer it?"

"JARVIS."

"Yes?" the AI asked.

"Trace it, find a source."

"Already on it, sir," JARVIS said. She looked at Tony and at his nod she hit the speaker phone button and answered the call.

"Hello?" she asked. There was static, the sound of cloth against the speaker, muffled shouts and a high-pitched whimper.

"Talk!" an angry voice said. "Talk! Mommy's on the phone!"

She shook, and she looked at Steve when he put his hand on her shoulder. "Hello? Jamie? Jamie, sweetie can you hear me? It's Mom." She tried to keep the tears from her voice. "Jamie?"

"M-Mom? Mom is that you?" James asked, his voice trembled, frightened. She felt weak and was thankful that Steve was close to support her. "Mom… Mom… I'm scared. I'm sorry—"

"Oh, baby. It's okay, it's okay sweetheart. Dad and I are not upset, we're just worried. You're alright? Where are you?"

"I'm fine, I don't—" the phone must have been wrenched away from James for she never heard the rest.

"James? James!" she called.

"James!" Steve said, over her shoulder, his hand joining hers in supporting the phone, their one link to their son. "James, can you hear me!" he said. More static, more rustling cloth and other background noises. Then heavy breathing like in horror films, only this wasn't a horror film and the thick pants chilled her to the bone.

"Hail… Hydra…" the line went dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MCU (c) Marvel Studios
> 
> Yes their pets are all black. Nat chose the color.
> 
> Howie and Audrey, the Lang twins and Riley are my OCs. Torunn's parentage is a bit modified, she's the daughter of Jane and Thor instead of Thor and Sif. Justice Warriors, Creation Gems, Sentinels of the Universe are all "mocks" of the Avengers, Infinity Stones and GotG. Kalma is basically Thanos but a girl. Kalma is a Finnish death goddess, apparently her name means "scent of corpses". I also had fun imagining how anime would portray Natasha (I picked tsundere cause strong women in anime tend to get portrayed as that). The mantis also eats its mate, hence Natasha is the "White Mantis" in the alternate mediums. Steve's name was hard, so I settled on something that was actually familiar. Apparently, there's a Captain Canada, go figure.
> 
> This picks up twenty-one years (Steve and Nat spent a year dating/looking for Bucky) after Winter Soldier ends, Iron Man 3 happened, the Dark World happened (but Jane didn't break up with Thor or whatever, cause they got married and had a daughter) and Age of Ultron didn't happen.
> 
> I decided on strawberry blond for James' hair color because in some of the comics he has blond hair and in the movie cartoon and other comics he has red hair, so I figured a happy middle ground would be the best.
> 
>  
> 
> Save an author; leave a review
> 
> Love my silent readers.


	3. Sacrament and Sacrificium

_A few hours earlier_

Music was playing in the background, some symphonic metal that Torunn liked. They laughed at something Riley said, a funny quote from the movie. "Man, that was a good movie," Howie said, looking out the window. "I don't know how they'll top that with next one."

"Yeah, considering Kalma clapped almost everyone out of existence," James said, eyeing Howie. "How will they recover from that? Dr. Mystic even gave up the Age Gem!"

"So much for protecting it with her life," Torunn said, "if my father or grandfather made such an oath, they would keep it. Even if it meant sacrificing their friends." She folded her arms over her chest, she was the oldest and the tallest with long blond hair, bright hazel eyes and mannish shoulders. He watched as her arms lifted her breasts, his cheeks grew hot. "I would have sacrificed Tomi Lark."

"Mystic has a plan," he said, "I know it. That's why she gave Kalma the Age Gem. It controls  _age_ , that's like irunno, time and stuff."

"Yeah, but Kalma has the Creation Gloves  _and_  all the Creation Gems," Riley pointed out. The song changed to some classic rock, AC/DC by the sound of it. "How are, well what's left of the Justice Warriors, Trigger, and Andromeda—"

"I found it funny that Raijin kept calling Trigger a raccoon, when he was clearly a rabbit. Also—"

"Oh yeah, that was pretty funny," Riley agreed. They laughed, the limo bouncing a bit, he noticed an orange construction sign with an arrow and the word detour on it. The road got worse, Happy slowed down so the back end of the limo wouldn't bounce as much. Howie had his arm around Faith, pulling her closer, while Andy pretended to play along to the crazy riff on an air guitar. The street lights vanished, he saw the shadowy reaching limbs of trees and swallowed a bit. The limo hit a nasty bump, bouncing them all out of their seats and skipping the CD in the back.

"What the hell?" Howie grumbled, twisting around to roll down the window between the driver's cab and the back of the limo. "Happy, what's going on? Where are we? Jim—"

"Howie don't call me that," he sighed, rubbing his face. This wasn't his street. In fact, he didn't even know what street they were on, and he was good with directions. His neighbourhood was a little away from the city, it was a bit wooded, but not like this. He glanced at his watch, it was almost midnight and he needed to get home before his parents started to worry.

"— home before his mom goes crazy Russian spy on his ass."

"She does not," he sighed. This was starting to feel like a horror movie. The wind rippled through the trees and a late-night spring rain started. The limo groaned as it bounced on the uneven road.

"Detour, Howie. We should get back to the main road soon and—"

"Holy shit, Happy look out!" Howie shouted, Happy slammed on the breaks and the car lurched forward, tires screeching on the pavement. James could hear the rumble of the engine, the patter of rain and the hush breathing of his friends. He scrambled over to Howie. A man was standing in the harsh glare of the sole street lamp; dressed in black with a mask on, bulky black armour covered his chest, arms and legs, strange silver contraptions encircled his forearms and hands. He looked at Howie, dread paling both of their features. "Who the hell is that?" Howie asked. He shook his head. "Happy step on it!" Howie slipped down back into the seat, tugging on the waist of his jeans. He flopped next to Howie, shivering as he remembered the sight of that man. "JARVIS? JARVIS can you hear me?" Howie shouted.

The car screeched to life, zooming towards the mysterious man. "I can hear you just fine Mr. Howie, what—"

"Distress signal! Dad! Now!" Howie shouted. He watched as his friend pushed a button, red and silver metal plates began to travel up his arm. He peeked up at the window, watching the mysterious man get closer.

"I've sent the signal, sir," JARVIS said. The man didn't move from the road, instead he stepped closer. "I suggest you all strap in."

"Is there to be a battle?" Torunn asked. Riley and the Lang twins swallowed. His eyes widened as the man smashed his strange arms into the hood of the car with such force that it crumbled the good of the limo. The momentum of the car caused it to flip, flying into the air and landing on the side of the road with the crunching sound of twisting metal. Glass was everywhere, it was dark, his head spun as he looked around, he tasted blood in his mouth.

"Everyone alright?" he asked, closing his eyes and shaking the glass from his hair. He patted his pocket, looking for his phone, he had to call his parents. His dad would know what to do, his dad will come. His dad was Captain America, of course he'll come. Dad promised he'll protect me no matter what. He didn't feel his phone in his pocket. "Where's my phone?"

"What the hell was that?" Faith asked, holding onto her brother's hand, Andy's eyes were wide with fear. They didn't bring their shrinking suits. Torunn shook herself. Riley gave a soft moan.

"Riley," he cried, wiggling over to his friend. "Riley, dude, can you hear me?" he patted his friend's cheek.

"Dude," Riley said, "my head."

"Just stay down," he said, the limo groaned, a woody snap echoed and the next thing he knew the car was sliding down the bank. They screamed, he threw himself over Riley, pulling him close to protect him as best he could. The limo flipped again, landing with a splash in the small river.

"Cover ya heads," Howie said and lifted his two gauntlet covered hands, the repulsors charged with a whirling whine and then he blasted the roof of the limo off. Torunn and the Lang twins scrambled out first, Howie followed them, but he stayed put. "James," Howie said.

"I can't leave Riley," he said, "his head hurts, what if he has a neck injury? He can't move." Nobody knew where they were, the limo was all messed up and he doubted JARVIS still worked with the mangled heap that the limo was now; somehow Happy was still strapped in, blood oozing down cuts on his face and hands, Andy checked him and nodded, the man was still alive. The rain soaked them, it was a loud patter against the leaves. "You are the only one with any form of a weapon."

"Yeah, but these are charged for emergency use, so I have maybe two or three good blasts left. I don't have a portable arch reactor like my dad." Howie looked at the sky, hoping to see a flash of red and gold, hear a sonic boom. He did too, looking for Iron Man. Iron Man will be here, Iron Man will stop this guy and Iron Man will tell his dad and then this madman will be in real trouble once Captain America came. Right?

"I will not let any harm befall my friends," Torunn said, and the area grew darker as a loud rumble of thunder echoed. His eyes widened, they had forgotten that Torunn was the daughter of a thunder god, she had the same powers as her father. She turned to Howie. "You stay here and protect them. I will deal with this man."

"Well you better deal with him fast," Andy said, pointing to the man on top of the ridge. "Cause, we got company and not the good kind."

"Stay here," Torunn said, there was another rumble of thunder and she screamed, sparks shooting along her finger tips, her braid had come undone and electricity ran along her hair, her eyes a bright lightning-white. "For Asgard!" she bellowed, charging up the hill. The man didn't flinch at the sight of the charging thunder goddess, he smashed a hefting looking tree branch free and jabbed her in the stomach, smacking her across the face. She staggered, her footing becoming precarious on the slippery incline of the bank. She bellowed again, lightning sparking along her body and she grabbed the metal bracers on the guy's arm.

"Go Torunn!" he shouted, as she sent a surging current along the metal. The man jerked, sagging to his knees. They cheered as he went down, twitching from the electricity. Torunn relaxed, her opponent subdued. She tossed the man aside and began walking back down the hill.

"Now, all we must do is wait until Howie's Iron Father—"

"Torunn!" he cried, watching in horror as the man regained his footing. What the hell is that guy? How could anyone survive such electrical amperage. She turned as the branch he had before cracked her across the face knocking her out and sending her tumbling back down the hill. Faith jumped up and stopped her tumble. The man stalked towards them. He looked between Riley and Torunn, shaking. He glanced up at the sky, hoping to see a glint of red and gold, hoping Uncle Tony would appear and deal with this, hoping to see the familiar red-white-and-blue of his father's shield come spinning out of the darkness. His mom was right, this wasn't fun, it was terrifying.

Howie charged the repulsors again, the mysterious man threw the branch and Howie blasted it to smithereens. "Wish I had the boots," he grumbled and charged at the man. He jumped, the man grabbed his leg and twisted. James flinched when he heard the crack and Howie's scream.

"Howie!" Faith shouted, as the man tossed Howie aside as if he was a doll. The man didn't so much as glance at Faith or Andy, his eyes fixed on him. His blood drained from his face as sickening realization dawned on him.

"James," Howie gasped, pushing himself up into a sitting position. The repulsor was charging, the whine increasing in volume. "Run."

"I got Riley," Andy said, moving to steady Riley's head. James scrambled to his feet, tripping over everything in his haste to run. He bolted into the darkness, splashing across the river and he heard the repulsor fire.

* * *

 

"Hail… Hydra…" the line went dead, the image of the red skull headed octopus appeared on Nat's phone. His blood went cold and then burned hot with rage. The symbol of Hydra flashed for a moment before vanishing.

"Damn it," he whispered. " _Damn it_!" he spun and punched the doorframe, wood cracking and splintering. They sacrificed everything. They sacrificed Shield, he almost died, he sacrificed Bucky… Bucky… He closed his eyes at the image of Bucky's shocked face when he said he was with him until the end of the line. His shield slid from his arm, his knees gave out and he put his face in his hands. The tears didn't come though, he shook but he couldn't cry.

"Steve," Tony said, the whirl and whir of his suit sounding as he walked closer. "Steve, we'll get them. We'll find him."

He died for nothing in 1945, he almost died for nothing again in 2014, and now the very organization he thought he stopped kidnapped his son. This couldn't be happening. He shook; the tears refused to fall. He felt Bucky's metal fist slam in his face —  _You. Are. My. Mission!_  — his friend's widen, shocked eyes as he managed to get through to him. Zola's robotic voice as he explained that the US had welcomed Hydra agents into the country, into Shield with open arms. Strategic value, Natasha had said. The missile that blew up the bunker, his shield arm straining against the impact, Natasha tucked against him. Natasha's shoulder bleeding from when Bucky shot her. The Red Skull as he gloated about how he'll conquer the world —  _cut off one head, two more shall take its place —_ and Peggy, her voice, their false promises and then the icy water. Jesus, he hadn't thought about the icy water in years and how the plane sank — how he sank, losing consciousness as the cold — that hellish insidious cold — seeped into the very marrow of his bones.

Gentle hands — warm hands — slip pass his arms, cupped his face, then pulled him into a warm comforting embrace. "Nat?" he whispered, looking at her green eyes, broken and wet with tears. "Oh God." The tears came then, and she squeezed him tighter. "James. James. Our boy… our boy… they have our boy, Nat. They have him and…they have him. I failed, Nat. I failed. I didn't protect him, I swore to him… I swore to myself, I'd always protect him, and I didn't. I failed. I failed him, Nat. I failed." He hid his face in the crook of her neck. "What kind of father am I? I couldn't even protect my son from Hydra!"

"Steve, we'll find him. We'll find him Steve, I promise." She ran her hand through his hair. He didn't believe it. Hydra was too numerous, too powerful. They had twenty-one years to prepare for this. Twenty-one years without him chopping off their heads. Instead, he had taken less dangerous missions, stayed home more, got married, had a family.

"I made him a target… I gave them the perfect target without even realizing it and they knew it and they took and—"

" _Steve_!" she said, her voice cutting through his self-berating tirade. He leaned back and stared at her, chest heaving with each breath. He trembled, staring at his wife and (second) best friend. "We'll find him. We will. We found Hydra once, we can do it again."

"Nat what if—"

"They wanted him," Tony said. "That's what Howie said before he passed out from the pain. The guy came after them, but he only fought to get to James. He wanted James."

"Yes, but why? Why do they want James, what could they possibly—"

"The serum," he said, eyes widening. "They want the serum. My serum. James has it, and they want it."

"But doesn't he have Nat's too? Isn't that what Bruce said? Why you two had such a helluva time getting pregnant? Because your guys' serums couldn't combine right or something?" Tony asked. She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. He looked at Tony, knowing Nat hated talking about the miscarriages.

"That's one theory. Helen thinks that it's because Nat's uh… plumbing is repaired. We'll never know why, could be a combination of both."

"The point is, Tony," Nat said, "James' serum is a mix of both of ours. What percentage of it is which one is unknown. Bruce thinks about 75% of it is Steve's. Well, what he can identify as Erskine's serum with 100% confidence." She gave a tiny smile. "The genetic markers for my serum are easier to pinpoint since the Red Room did document it and JARVIS was kind enough to get the information from the KGB."

"You're welcome Mrs. Rogers," th AI said.

"How come you never say that to me when you get me stuff?" Tony huffed, but it was half-hearted. "So, if there is only three-quarters of Steve's serum and its mixed with yours how are they going to get it out of his DNA?"

He shrugged, helpless. "They've been trying to answer that since '42, after Erskine died. They took a few pints of my blood but as far as I know nobody has been able to unlock the secret. Bruce knows a lot about it, but considering I'm the only one with the perfected version of it—"

"Can compare it. Damn." Tony rubbed his face. Maddie came over and nuzzled him, and he wrapped his arms around the dog, taking comfort in her warmth.

"I think Erskine would have wanted it that way though," he said, looking at Tony. "He told me the serum amplifies everything, not just the physical but the mental. That's why Schmidt went mad. All his ambition and lust for power and jealous rage, it increased tenfold. That's why his head turned into a red skull. At least that's how Erskine explained it to me before he turned me into Captain America." He gave a rueful snort, a wistful half-smile wanting to break free. "Didn't save me much schnapps though."

"Okay," Tony said, "so if Hydra can't get the secret formula from Jimmy—"

" _James_!" he and Nat said.

"—then what else could they use him for? I mean, he's just a kid. He's sixteen. What does Hydra want with a sixteen-year-old kid?"

"To use him," she said, "he's picked up on my skills" — she tried to hide the pride of it — "they probably want to create another Winter Soldier."

"A what?" Tony asked, as he stood up. He growled, smacking his fist into his palm. Another Winter Soldier, only this time instead of his best friend, they'll use his son. His son that had his physical prowess and Nat's espionage prowess. A perfect killer, even better than whatever Bucky was.

"It's what they turned Bucky into," he said, jaw clenched tight. "I'm not sure how many old war stories Howard told you—"

"Try a million, most of them — no  _all of them_  — about you, might I add," Tony said, a bit of a condescending sneer in his voice.

"But Bucky was my childhood friend. He fell from a train in '45 and I assumed to his death. Then… Then…" he closed his eyes, taking a deep calming breath, centering himself. "Then when Shield was exposed as Hydra, they send their Winter Soldier after me. Turns out that whatever Zola did to Bucky in that Hydra base, saved his life. They made him into their assassin." He looked at Tony, a sad expression on his face. He knew the truth about Tony's parents. He found that out years ago while he tracked down Bucky. That car crash everyone thought was an accident, no, it was an assassination, one his best friend committed. It was a secret he kept from Tony for twenty-one years. "They sent him to kill us. He almost succeeded, but I… I got through to him, and he pulled me from the Potomac."

"I told you how many times Steve," Nat said, "you don't know that!"

"Yes, I do!" he snapped. "It was him, Nat. It was Bucky. Bucky saved my life and I… Jesus… I failed him too." He went over to their bed and sat down, Maddie padded over and rested her head on his knee, big brown eyes staring at him. She knew he was upset, so she tried to make him feel better by cuddling. He patted her head.

"Sir, incoming call, it's your wife," JARVIS said.

"Right, you haven't been able to triangulate that call have you?" Tony asked.

"No, the call wasn't long enough for me to trace. I'm sorry," JARVIS said. Tony puffed his cheeks out.

"Right. I have to go, Pepper's calling; use SARAH. I'll be in touch if—"

"It's best if you stay out of this, Tony," Nat said.

"Are you kidding me? They attacked my son—"

"Because of James," she said. "This is an old battle between us and them. Let us handle it. Take care of your family."

Tony deflated. "Alright," he said. "Take care." He left their bedroom and he could feel her eyes on him. He just continued to pet Maddie. He was a failure. He knew that now. He failed to save the world in 1945 and 2014. He failed to protect his son, failed to protect his best friend, he's probably failing as a husband, too. Wouldn't surprise him much at this point.

He had been so happy when James was born, and so scared too. Natasha was dying, something had torn inside her, and she was bleeding too much, losing too much blood and then James' heart stopped, and they had to rush her to the OR to do an emergency C-section. He had screamed, demanding entrance into the operating room, to be with Natasha, but it was too dangerous. Thor had to hold him back. He got to see Nat first — she was so weak and pale, but she smiled at seeing him — and then they learned James was on a ventilator. He saw his son next, in an incubator, hooked up to machines that monitored his heart and breathing. The cold wash of fear that his son would be a frail sickly boy consumed him as nurses touched him and pricked him as if he was just another thing to poke, instead of his son. His first meal wasn't in his mother's arms, suckling at her breast like a normal baby. No, James' first meal was his mother's milk given to him via a bottle. The doctors wouldn't let Natasha hold him for the first few days.

They took him off the ventilator, he breathed on his own and his vitals read strong and healthy. Natasha cried when she held him for the first time, she spoke soft tearful words in Russian, kissing his tiny fuzzy head. He swore then and there, that nothing and no one would hurt his son, he'd protect his family with everything he had. "I failed," he whispered. James had worshipped him. When he was four and five,  _everything_  had to be Captain America. It always frustrated him that he couldn't tell the other kids what his dad really did. They had opted for a local public school, prepped his teachers and made sure the media would not swoop on their son. They even had fake jobs to create the illusion that they were just like every other family: he was a graphic designer and Natasha was a secretary working for the New York branch of Stark Industries. Still James knew, who he was, and he wanted to show him off to the world.

He never liked the attention of being Captain America but the unbridled love and pride in his son's eyes warmed his heart. They went to ballgames, wrestled in the backyard, put together a model airplane, went trick-or-treating every Halloween. Even now, as a teenager, he still wanted to do things with him. Talk with him about what his life was like before becoming Captain America, about the war, about losing Bucky and Peggy, and waking up in a world so different from the one he left. In turn he taught James how to be a good person, how to always do the right thing, accept the consequences of his actions be they good or bad. Most of all, he showed James love, all the love his mother showed him, all the love his father never got a chance to give him. They were close, and it made his heart swell with pride watching his son grow up into a good man. A man that protected the innocent and those weaker than him. A man that was a gentleman to the ladies, loved and respected his mother, honored his father.

The idea that Hydra could twist it all into something dark and cruel, erase the young man his son was turning into — chilled him to the bone. "I let it happen, I gave up the fight and had a family and—"

"Steve," Natasha whispered, pulling him into a hug. "Steve, it's not your fault."  
"I told him I'd always be there for him, I told him I'd protect him. If he ever needed me I'd be there, and he needed me tonight and I was asleep in bed!" he ran his hand through his hair. Maddie whined, putting her paws on her lap to lick his face. He pushed her away, but wasn't unkind about it. "He needed me Nat and I wasn't there to help him."

"I know, I know and I… neither of us expected this to happen. We defeated Hydra twenty-one years ago… its clear we didn't. So, you know what we're going to do?" she asked. He shook his head, too consume with his own guilt. "We're going to find them, cut off all their heads and get our son back."

"And how are we going to do that? We don't even know where to start," he said.

"You're Captain America, I'm Black Widow. They want our son, and I'm not going to sit around and just hand over my baby without a fight," she said and dipped her head, kissing him. "You take the world upon your shoulders, try to save everyone. You can't save everyone Steve, so let's focus on those you  _can_  save. Let's start with our son."

 _Obviously, Barnes thought you were damn well worth it. So, honor his sacrifice._  He closed his eyes, remembering Peggy tell him that after Bucky fell, when he sat around wallowing in his guilt. He failed in saving Bucky, but there was still a chance — hope — at saving James. Natasha was right, he was Captain America and Captain America wasn't just going to  _let_  Hydra take his son without a hell of a fight. He stood up, face set, a determined glint in his eyes. "I still have those hipster glasses."

"Then ones I like?" she asked. "I remember when you  _only_  had those glasses on."

"I think we conceived James that time," he teased as he went over to his shield and picked it up. The familiar weight was a comfort. He smiled; remembering how he played soldiers with James, protecting him from imaginary artillery shells with his shield while James army crawled along the carpet. Sometimes Natasha would join in and throw pillows on his shield. "You still have the basement key?" he asked, looking at her and his heart swelled when she gave him that familiar smirk.

* * *

 

James stared at the phone. It was on the counter, the two men that held him prisoner were deep in a hushed conversation. He tried to break free, but they knew he had enhanced strength. He looked around, trying to find something that'll break these cuffs. Nothing. They made sure to keep in in the center of the room, away from anything that he might be able to use to escape. He hoped his friends were okay.

He hated running, his father always told him that once you run from a bully you'll never stop. He didn't want to run, but he also didn't want to endanger his friends anymore because of him. So, when Howie told him to run, he did. He ran and ran, splashing across the river, breaking through the twiggy trees and thorny underbrush. He tried to find the road, thinking he could flag down a car and get their phone to call the police. He did find the road, but he didn't find anyone helpful. Instead he found that strange man again, he swore and bolted but the man was fast and was on him in a blink. Next thing he knew he was here, being told to speak into a phone. He heard his mother's voice and his father's. They were worried, and he cried, scared and just wanting his parents. He whimpered.

Get ahold of yourself James. Fear won't help you, crying won't help you either, gotta think. Use your smarts to get outta this or at least hold them off until someone can come. He took a deep breath, packing away his fear and finding a calming center. He looked around. It was a lab of some sorts, no windows suggested underground (or it could be above ground and they didn't want to build windows). There was a chair with a strange contraption attached to it, a pod in the corner attacked to huge tanks; he squinted trying to see if they had labels. Other various things he couldn't identify or didn't recognized. It reminded him of a mad scientist's lab — an insane marriage of Uncle Tony's workshop and Uncle Bruce's lab. He shuddered. The mysterious man had removed the armour and weird bracers that he wore; burn scars had ruined his face, same with his arms and hands. James shuddered, wondering in sick fascination about what happened to the man. He flinched when those cold dead eyes fell upon him; he dropped his gaze. He could nothing, other than listen.

"— if Captain America could get through to the Winter Soldier—" a man said, he was short and fat, with a worried expression as he kept glancing over at the man that had caught him.

"— we still have no idea where it is. It's been missing for twenty-one years, who knows what could have happened to it during that time. How much it remembers of its previous life!" one said, the smaller one, that looked like a pencil-neck geek. James knew he was the one that held the phone.

"This is a kid though, Amschit. Their brains aren't fully developed, wipe him a couple of times and presto!" a third said, he was tall and muscly, handsome looking. "We can tell the boss we have a new asset. One that Captain America will never suspect."

"He will," said the burned man. "Because you had to call him Russel to gloat."

"Can it Rumlow, you aren't gonna kill this kid. We need him. He'll make a great asset to Hydra. One that not even Captain America can stop."

"True," the burned man — Rumlow — said. "Will stop Rogers, but Romanoff, now that bitch's a piece of work. She'll sacrifice anyone if it meant saving people. Hell, I don't think she'll hesitate in putting a bullet into her own kid's head if it came down to saving the world or stopping him." Rumlow glanced at him, a nasty smirk on his lips. "What's one kid compared to millions of people."

"The wife of Captain America killing the son of Captain America," Russel said, snorting in sick delight. "I'd like to see that."

"It'll fuck with his head so bad," Rumlow agreed. "Being forced to watch his wife kill their kid. He couldn't save his Bucky, he won't be able to stop his wife from killing their son."

"We break Captain America," Amschit said, "we break the Avengers."

"Once the Avengers are broken, there'll be nothing to stop Hydra." Rumlow grinned, but the other man spoke up again.

"What about that base in British Columbia? Someone took it out. Everyone was killed, everything was destroyed," he said.

"Can it Jacobs, it was one base," Russel said. "We got the kid of Steve Rogers!"

"Yes, but it's been more than just one base. It's been like that for years. A few bases every couple of months. Something or someone finds them, wipes them off the map and vanishes. Like a fucking ghost."

"It's nothing, probably just dumb lab accidents or something," Rumlow said. "We need to get the boss in on this." He looked at Amschit and then at him. James tried to look like he wasn't listening. "Can we stick him in cryo?"

"I'm not… well, he's never been in cryo before so—" Amschit rung his hands.

"He has Rogers' super juice —"

"— serum, and yes I believe so. From what I've studied of Dr. Zola's notes when he took samples of the Red Skull's blood and the serum he injected into Sergeant Barnes—"

"Then there shouldn't be a problem. His old man was on ice for seventy years," Rumlow pointed out. "Freeze him until the boss says we can make him into our weapon."

"It's not that simple," Amschit said. "His mother's Red Room serum is an unknown factor."

"Which does he have more of?"

"I'm not sure. I haven't studied him. It'll take some time to study him. He's the only other living being that has Erskine's formula, the completed one, the perfected one. If Hydra misses this chance—"

"Then take the blood and stick him on ice."

"It's not that simple, we—"

"We have a cryo pod!" Rumlow bellowed. "Make it that simple! Study him and then wipe him and stick him in the god damn freezer!"

Amschit swallowed. "O-Of course sir," he said. Rumlow snorted and walked off, Jacobs following him. James swallowed as Russel came over. He watched as the big man undid the cuffs and grab his arm. He winced, Russel dragged him over to the chair and shoved him into it. A mechanical whirl sounded, the cuffs snapping around his biceps and wrists. He grunted, tugging but they didn't break free. He whimpered, scared as he stared at the two men. Russel shoved a rubber mouth guard into his mouth. "Now, hold still. I have same samples I want to collect before we before we proceed with the mental reconditioning."

The what? His eyes widened as the little man drew a needle and stuck it into the crook of his elbow. He whimpered, watching as the man took his blood, and swapped along his lip and cheek. Russel yanked some hair from his head. He closed his eyes, tears leaking out from the corners. Amschit removed the needle and gave him a pleased smile at the blood and other samples he collected. "Tell me, do you love your parents?" he looked at him. "You can nod." He did. He loved his parents and wanted them to come save him. He hoped they would, they had to. Any moment now his father's shield would come spinning and clonk Amschit on the head. "Good. Hold their memories close, for this will be the last time you'll ever remember them. Ever remember what their love felt like. Once we're done, you'll never remember your friends or your parents again."

No. No. No no no no no! He whimpered, struggling against the bonds that held him fast to the chair. He cried, he wanted his father, his mother. He didn't want to forget them. Gunshots echoed in the distance, Russel frowned, getting up. The sounds grew closer and closer. He glanced at the muscly man as he headed towards the door. Alarms began to blare. "Wipe him! Wipe him now!"

"But it hasn't finished calibrating and—"

"Do it now! We're under attack!" Russel said. "Shit. Shit.  _Shit_!" he ran towards the door. "Where the fuck is Rumlow and Jacobs?" he growled as he drew his gun. Amschit swore in German, hitting a few keys on his computer. The mechanical arms of the machine whirled to life, the head shaped paddles twisted with a buzzing hum, blue-white electricity sparking between them as they pulled apart. He cried, fearing what came next. A shot fired — the paddles lowered further, coming over his head — Amschit swore, and then yelped at whatever he saw — the paddles cradled his head and face, his body seized up as electricity surged through him. He heard the hum of the generator increase. Another gun shot — Mom, Dad, I love you! I love you so much! —

Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MCU (c) Marvel Studios
> 
> Well, wonder who came to James' rescue. Did he get to James in time?
> 
> Who should be the new head of Hydra or, apparent head of Hydra. Open to suggestions.
> 
> James' birth is loosely based off of my own (my mom wasn't dying), but my heart did stop and I was on a ventilator for a little bit after my birth. My mom couldn't hold me for a while and she hated how the nurses manhandled me. But like James, I'm hale and hearty now. :3
> 
> Also in all truth, Torunn probably could've easily taken Rumlow out cause she's Thor's daughter and her dad's a bad ass. But James needed to be captured because we wouldn't have a story now would we, so she got cocky (and Rumlow got beefed up cause again, no kidnapped James, no story) and got her face smashed with a tree. Don't worry, she's swearing vengeance with all the might of and fury of Asgard.
> 
> SO… the parody Avengers and GotG are as followed
> 
> Avengers = Justice Warriors  
> Steve Rogers = Stu Roberts (Star Spangled Banner Man)
> 
> Natasha Romanoff = Malinda Zima (The White Mantis)
> 
> Tony Stark = Tomi Lark (Iron Lady)
> 
> Thor = Raijin
> 
> Bruce Banner/Hulk = Buddy Jekyll/Hyde
> 
> Rocket Raccoon = Trigger Rabbit
> 
> Groot = Tree (okay, Groot was kinda hard cause… what can you spoof a literal walking talking tree alien into)
> 
> Nebula = Andromeda
> 
> Thanos = Kalma
> 
> Dr. Srange = Dr. Mystic (yes she's a master of the Strange Arts)
> 
> Infinity Stones = Creation Gems
> 
> Infinity Gauntlet = Creation Gloves (that's right Kalma has two)
> 
> Time Stone = Age Gem
> 
> Marvel Comics = Wonder Comics
> 
> Star Lord/Peter Quill = Galaxy Lord/Paul Gill
> 
> Bucky Barnes = Lucky Laurence
> 
> Mantis = Spider
> 
> And that's it for now. :3
> 
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**Author's Note:**

> MCU (c) Marvel
> 
> So I watched the Winter Soldier again (I love that movie), and I finally gave in and decided to write my "Hydra kidnaps James to study him and make him into a weapon to combat his parents but Steve and Nat are on the hunt for their missing boy" story or "I just really want to write Steve growling "where's my son!" and Natasha kicking a Hydra agent off the roof" fic.
> 
> I know I could probably have an entire story with how they got together and everything but this is kinda a background chapter to establish their relationship and get James in the picture (yes, he's not born but he's present so it counts).
> 
> No Steve hasn't found Bucky yet. There's a reason. It's plot important. Like We Are Giants, this one is gonna be taking a back seat to And We Run and United We Stand (my Assassin's Creed Unity fic that I will fucking finish). So, I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Save an author; leave a review.


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